Beach Scene Revised, No Divorce!
by JacAvoy85
Summary: Title pretty much sums it up. Little bit of Dark!Charles because, let's face it, no one should mess with his man. Charles/Erik (For Mykkila09)


**A/N:This Fic is dedicated to Mykkila09—it was all her beautiful idea—I just put it into words.**

**Also, this story takes place on the beach at Cuba. It's right after Erik has killed Shaw…**

Erik stumbled out of the submarine, clutching his chest, his other hand shaky from trying to hold up Shaw's lifeless body.

_So this is what a collapsed lung feels like_, he thought.

Shaw's body dropped to the ground with a dull thud, no longer able to hold it up with his powers any longer, Erik took one more step out of the destroyed sub and collapsed to the sand.

Screaming; Erik could hear someone screaming his name.

It was Charles.

With what little strength he had left in his body, Erik pushed himself up into a sitting position, just as Charles ran over to him.

"Erik!" Charles landed next to the man. "Erik! Are you alright?!" His hand shot up to Erik's face, grabbing for the stupid helmet he was wearing.

"Get off me!" Erik barked out as he pushed the smaller man away. His breathing was becoming increasingly more difficult, he didn't need Charles crowding him (was what he told himself—but he knew the real reason why he didn't want the telepath too close).

"Please Erik," Charles said faintly, "let me help you."

Erik took in a ragged breath, his whole body shaking. He turned to look at his friend. "There are more dire matters than me right now I'm afraid." He looked off towards the battleships in the distance. "I feel their guns moving in the water, targeting us," he rasped out.

Charles' head slowly moved to the ocean. He brought his hand to his temple.

Dear Lord, Erik was correct. Charles shot a quick glance over to Moira who was standing behind him. She took off towards the jet to radio for help.

Staggering to his feet, Erik knew it would be too late—it would be too late by the time Moira called for help—he needed to do something now. He needed to protect Charles.

...and probably the children.

But more importantly Charles. He stumbled a couple of feet before he felt Charles come to his side. The shorter man wrapped an arm around Erik's waist, helping him to stand.

"I said get off me Charles!" The taller man pushed him away. _No, Charles must not know_, no matter how much it hurt Erik to push him away.

Moira's desperate cries over the radio went unheard and the ships released their missiles.

Erik took in another shaky breath as he drew himself up all the way, hand still to his aching chest, as he looked to the sky. He saw the missiles soaring through the air; he saw all the looks of terror on the children's faces.

He saw Charles.

The missiles stopped midair.

Charles' head turned to Erik, the man had one hand out, up in the air, wobbly and unstable; the other clutching his chest, his breathing was becoming louder—almost gargled and strained. So badly did Charles want to delve into the other man's mind—find out what was wrong with him- -_help him_.

But he had that damned helmet on.

Everyone was staring at the frozen missiles dangling in the air, just meters above their heads. Charles turned his head away from Erik and followed suit. Had been under different circumstances, Charles would have been praising Erik with coming along so nicely with his abilities, but the sight of the missiles slowly turning around in the air made Charles' heart drop to his stomach.

"Erik," Charles said steadily, looking back at the other man, "don't do it Erik—you yourself said we're the better men—now's the time to prove it," he said with desperation and a hint of fear in his voice.

But Erik didn't want to hear it right now. And it broke his heart to hear Charles begging him to stop, pleading—but there was already too much rage in him. All he could think about was the missiles, and how just moments ago they were headed straight towards Charles.

His Charles.

He flicked his hand—the missiles took off—soaring back to where they came from.

"Erik! Release them!" Charles yelled; frantic that he was losing control of the situation so quickly and could do nothing about it. _Goddamn helmet!_

"They're just innocent men Erik! Don't do this!" Charles tried again, but Erik couldn't hear him over the fury he had in his body over almost losing Charles—and to humans—unworthy fucking humans.

Moira came running out of the jet, she saw Erik, she saw the missiles—she saw the rage in Erik's eyes. "Stop it Erik! Stop the missiles! Don't kill them! They were just following orders!" She screamed at him.

Charles cringed at her last choice of words._ Oh, such bad taste._

_That,_ was not the right thing to say to Erik.

The missiles soared even faster, heading closer and closer to the ships in the distance.

Erik Lehnsherr will never be at the mercy of men 'just following orders' again.

Moira drew her glock 22 and started firing at him, only to stop him, not to kill him.

Yet.

This enraged Charles beyond comprehensive thoughts, but before he had the chance to stop Moira, it seemed Erik had already taken the upper hand in the situation. He was reflecting all the bullets that were coming at him, careful not to let them hit Charles or the children, who were all standing behind him now. He had to protect them—all of them—it was his only concern at the moment. Damn the missiles—damn the ships—Charles meant more to him than all that. (The children too, but not as much as Charles.)

Moira fired off another round, knowing her bullets would just be reflected, but she wasn't concerned with that—she had a 'special' bullet just for Erik. She counted off in her head: _'seven, eight, nine'_…

The next one—it was the one meant just for him. She pulled the trigger. _Charles would finally be hers._

Finding it harder and harder to stand, let alone breathe, Erik staged to the side a bit, hand still to his chest, wishing so badly that the sharp pain in his lung would subside and just inflate with some goddamn air, and his other hand was still out in front, reflecting all of Moira's bullets.

Or so he thought.

He couldn't feel the one that was flying at him.

Fucking plastic.

It sliced through Erik's chest, clipping the top of his right lung—the same goddamn lung that was already collapsed. It…could have been worse, he supposed.

_"Noooo!"_ Charles cried out as Erik hit the sand, watching him fall to his knees before crashing down on his side.

Charles was at his side in an instant, holding him as he looked down at his friend with tears in his eyes.

Erik didn't have the strength to push Charles off him; he didn't care anymore if Charles knew. Charles was safe now—that's all that mattered. The missiles may not have made it to Erik's original destination, but they didn't harm Charles—that's all that really mattered in the long run.

Ripping the damn helmet off of Erik's head, Charles tossed it at Alex. "Destroy that goddamn thing this instant!" He ordered with enough heat behind his words that it startled the younger man. Alex made quick work of the helmet.

Turning back to Erik, Charles touched his face attentively with a shaky hand. "Erik," he whispered.

It only took a second for Charles to connect minds with him—he instantly knew what was wrong with the man.

He was fucking dying.

"Damn it Erik," Charles bit out through the tears. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and looked back down at the man he was cradling. "You have a bloody punctured lung and you still tried to blow-up a fleet of ships! What the hell is wrong with you?" He snarled at him, but not so much in anger but fear.

Erik's whole body was shaky as he tried to draw in another breath. He looked up at the man above him, tears slipping out of the corners of his eyes. "It was…for you Charles…I did it to keep you…safe," he rasped out, voice gargled and strained.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Charles' eyes flashed up to Moira, he narrowed them. "You," he sneered at her, "you did this to him."

Shaking her head with a look of fear on her face, Moira spoke with panic in her voice. "No Charles…I did it for us," she said faintly.

"There will never be an _us_!" Charles yelled at her, bringing his hand to his temple.

Moira hit the sand, not dead, but suddenly unaware of her current surroundings, finding herself wanting a nap and possibly some juice. She blinked down at the sand.

Turning back to Erik, Charles looked back down at the man in his arms. "And that my friend...was for you," he said quietly before leaning down and pressing his lips to Erik's.

Raven looked away._ She knew it!_

Once Charles broke apart, he looked to Azazel. "You," he said harshly, "if you do not want to end up with the same fate as her," he nodded over to Moria, who was tracing absent patterns in the sand with her finger, "I suggested you take us to a hospital, _now_!"

Azazel gave a huff but walked over to where Erik and Charles were in the sand. He stuck his hand out. "Цоме."

"And you will come back for the others too," Charles said matter-factly, before taking the teleporter's hand.

…

"I feel like people are staring at me," Hank said self consciously.

"No one is staring at you, I assure you Hank," Charles grinded out with his face in his hands as he leaned over in his seat.

He hated this—he hated waiting. It felt like they'd been in the ER waiting room for hours now, but it had only been forty minutes. Forty fucking agonizing minutes.

If they did not save Erik he would destroy every goddamn mind in this bloody hospital including his own.

Raven put her hand on his leg. "Charles, you're projecting," she said quietly.

He snapped his head up and looked at his sister, only visible to his eyes. "I- -I'm sorry—I didn't mean it—I'm just-"

"I know Charles," she cut him off. She already knew how her brother felt about Erik; she didn't need him to remind her.

…

"Charles Xavier?" The nurse stepped into the waiting room.

Charles' head shot up, he let go of Raven's invisible hand. "How is he?"

The nurse nodded at him. "He had internal bleeding and extensive damage to his organs, but he will survive. I will let you know when you can see him." She looked at Charles for a moment. "Are you his family?"

"Of course I'm his damn family," Charles snapped at her, not having the patients to deal with the hospitals 'family only' protocol bullshit right now.

She glanced at him a moment longer before turning to leave. Charles caught the end of her thought.

…_explains the silly suits._

…

"Erik," Charles spoke softly as he held his friend's hand. Was that Erik's hand trembling or his?

The damaged man looked up at him weakly, giving the best smile he could in his state—and it still took Charles' breath away. "Charles," he said softly, "you're here."

Wiping his eyes with his free hand, Charles smiled down at him. "Of course I'm here Erik—where else would I be?" He leaned down a placed kiss to Erik's hand. "By your side—it's where I want to be. It's where I've always wanted to be."

Erik smiled feebly up at Charles. "It's the only place I'd want you."

…

A few weeks later…

Erik found Charles looking out his bedroom window, he came up behind him and wrapped his arms around the shorter man's waist and rested his chin on his shoulder.

Closing his eyes at the touch, Charles sighed softly. "Should you be out of bed my friend?" He chided lovingly at the taller man.

"I'm fine Charles—it was just a collapsed lung." Erik said.

Shaking his head, Charles turned to face the man behind him. "You had internal bleeding Erik—not to mention the fact that you were shot!"

Erik waved a dismissive hand. "Same difference," he said nonchalantly. He looked serious to the smaller man. "Charles—what you did to Moira—for me…"

"Stop," Charles said with a headshake. "I don't need to hear it. I would do it again if it meant keeping you safe," he murmured.

Erik smiled. "Now you understand why I was doing what I was with the missiles—it was for you as well Charles—to keep you safe."

Charles gave him a wryly look. "Erik, I destroyed one mind—you wanted to kill _thousands_—I'd say that's a bit extreme," he said flatly.

"And I would have done it—I'd _still_ do it if it meant keeping you safe," Erik said, no trace of lie in his voice.

"I know Erik," Charles said softly. He ran his hand down Erik's cheek. "I know."

Erik leaned into the touch, closing his eyes for a moment before reopening them. He looked deeply into the shorter man's blue eyes. "I should have told you sooner—I should have told you the day we left for the beach." He took both of Charles' hands in his own. "Charles, I lo-"

"I know Erik, "Charles cut in. "…me too," he said tenderly.

Erik gave him a sad smile. "I almost didn't get the chance-"

"Stop." Charles looked into his eyes. "Now you can—everyday—for the rest of our lives."

And Erik did.

The End.


End file.
